


Ouch

by ncvakid (orkakid)



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Self Harm, Smoking, graphic depictions of self harm, please dont read this if u are easily triggered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:50:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5528420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orkakid/pseuds/ncvakid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenny laments his losses on Christmas Eve, and finds a new way to cope</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ouch

**Author's Note:**

> this is 100% a vent fic that i wrote post-panic attack. i do not encourage or promote self harm in any way shape or form, this was purely a way for me to safely get it out of my system. if you are easily triggered or feel you might be triggered by reading about self harm, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS FIC! I don't want to have your relapse on my hands.

It was cold. 

Of course it was cold, it was December in South Park, Colorado. Kenny was sitting on a bench by Stark’s Pond, smoking a cigarette and feeling empty inside. Behind him, in the town, the holiday warmth was creeping at the edge of the forest, almost but not quite reaching him. The smoke in his lungs felt thick and heavy, and he kept it in for too long before blowing it back out again. Usually it helped ease some of the numbness, but not tonight. 

Christmas was the worst time of the year. For hundreds of reasons. His shitty family was about half of those. Being home wasn’t an option tonight. The uncomfortable stiffness that hung in the air as they sat on the couch watching the stupid TV, knowing that tomorrow was just going to be Christmas Day for everyone except them, made him feel queasy and anxious. He had to stay away from that, at least for now. Tomorrow he could be there, for Karen, but not tonight. Tonight he was going to allow himself to wallow in his own self-pity.

He took another long drag on his cigarette, bringing it down to the filter, and flicked the butt out onto the frozen lake. He released his breath while digging another smoke from his pocket, watching the hazy cloud disappear into the night. He considered that as he lit the fresh one. 

He wished he could disappear so badly. Almost every goddamn day he would tragically and horrifically die, only to wake up again in his own goddamn bed under his own goddamn roof with his goddamn friends blowing up his goddamn phone. But the momentary release from his life didn’t stem or quell the desire to just dissipate with the smoke that he blew from his lungs. He spun his red Bic lighter between his fingers and wondered if anyone would notice if he actually disappeared. He didn’t really know what happened after he died, he didn’t know if anyone cried or screamed or mourned him in any way. He doubted it, he was a shitty punk in an ugly town with horrible friends who only cared about themselves. 

His friends. Kenny took a hard drag on his cigarette and let it out with a sigh. Somewhere in their freshman year, all of his friends suddenly turned gay for eachother, pairing off like cherries on a stem before his very eyes. The thought made him jealous and sick to his stomach. At first it wasn’t so bad; it started with some of the guys he didn’t really care about, Craig and Tweek finally settling down first by buying each other promise rings -- still one of the gayest things Kenny has ever been forced to witness -- and then Clyde and Token, as if they were encouraged by their friends to join the gay side. Then it got weird when Butters kissed Cartman on the mouth in public. That still made him gag a little bit if he thought about it too hard. Poor, innocent Butters -- who he’d admittedly beat off to more than a few times in his life -- pairing himself up with the Devil’s own creation. That peeved him a bit, but he was able to get over it. He hadn’t really wanted to date Butters, afterall. Maybe bone him once or twice, but never really date. 

Stan and Kyle were a completely different story. Of course, everyone had seen it coming from a mile away, but they’d waited so long that Kenny had actually gotten his hopes up that maybe they were just friends after all. Only to walk in on them rutting their covered erections on each other like animals in heat at one of Bebe’s senior parties when he was just trying to take a fucking piss in peace. That moment actually had made him throw up, hard, in Bebe’s mom’s hydrangea bushes, for at least 20 minutes. He hated, hated more than anything, thinking about them. Mostly he just hated the thought of Stan kissing anyone who wasn’t him. Stan was his best friend, he knew that. He’s known that. But not in the same way that Stan was Kyle’s best friend. He also knew that. There wasn’t any way that Kenny would ever have with Stan what Stan had with Kyle. They were too close and Kenny could never get close enough. 

There’d been so many moments growing up where he’d thought there might be something. The first time he’d gotten Stan high, and they’d laughed so hard they almost peed. He wanted to kiss Stan’s pink cheeks, and thought that maybe Stan might want to kiss his, too. When his dad gave him a shiner for being gay and he didn’t know where else to go, Stan let him sleep in his bed, not minding when Kenny snuggled a little closer and held him a little tighter. In high school, when they’d both started to grow facial hair, Stan suggested that they both shaved their beards so they would match, and after Kenny had gone home he’d masturbated sentimentally to the thought, wondering if Stan had ever touched himself while thinking of Kenny. When Stan had cried time and time again in Kenny’s arms after getting drunk and slashing his wrists, knowing that Kenny, above all others, even Kyle, would understand. Kenny had bandaged him up and held him, not really minding the wet spots that were left from Stan’s tears and snot. He loved feeling needed, feeling wanted by Stan. But those moments apparently didn’t mean anything, all those side glances and tight hugs were just Stan’s way of being friendly. Kenny had always known deep down that he didn’t stand a chance against Kyle, the “Super-Best-Friend”, but that didn’t make it any easier. He knew they were probably together right now, celebrating their respective holidays by sticking Stan’s dick up Kyle’s skinny, tight ass.

He felt sick again. Thinking about it brought on a flood of emotions that he attempted to subdue with a strong drag, only to find he was at the end of the cigarette. He angrily threw his used butt towards the ground, but it slipped out of his sweaty fingers and bounced off his wrist, burning side down. Kenny gasped, yelling “Ow, fuck!” out loud. His cry echoed off the trees, playing back to him over and over. It really fucking burned at first, but there was something else, too. It tingled after the initial pain, it almost felt… good. 

Kenny grabbed another cigarette and lit it quickly, his eyes on the flame of his lighter the entire time. He took a drag, keeping it lit and watching how it danced with the smoke he blew back. He knew Stan hurt himself, but the way that he went about it was never particularly appealing to Kenny. There was always so much blood, so much mess to clean up. And he never really thought it was a good way to cope with his problems. But lately he just felt so… empty. Maybe… maybe this would help him feel something, anything, other than the crippling weight of loss. Balancing the cigarette in his lips, he tugged his coat sleeve up a little, exposing the pale skin of his inner wrist. He relit his lighter and watched it burn, counting slowly back from ten. 10… 9… 8… he was nervous. What if it just hurt? He could deal with pain, but he didn’t like it. What if it got infected or something? A slow, agonizing death would be way worse than a quick one. 4...3...2… No time for thinking, now. When he reached one, he let the lighter go out and he jammed the metal end into his wrist. 

Kenny didn’t cry out this time, but he inhaled sharply and dropped his cigarette into the snow. He could feel it burning, blistering, searing his flesh, but the way it tingled his arm, his chest, all the way into the back of his head was so worth the pain. It gave him a feeling he’d never experienced, the endorphins pouring into his bloodstream suddenly calming his racing heartbeat and soothing his ragged thoughts, a high that he had never known before this. Then, suddenly, it was over as quickly as it started, the lighter cooling down to a warm heat far too soon. Kenny lit it back up, unable to wait a full ten seconds, before pressing it back into his wrist, a little below where he had done it last time. The rush wasn’t nearly as strong this time, and he was disappointed, but reveled, still, in the euphoric feeling that came from burning his skin. 

 

He spent at least another ten minutes practicing, learning, trying out this new and slightly scary territory. Blisters littered his pale wrist, all varying in their degrees of redness and puffiness. When he was finally satisfied, feeling a little giddy but overall calm, he tugged his sleeve back down, which actually kinda hurt in a bad way, but not enough to where he couldn’t brush it off. 

Kenny reached down to pick up the forgotten cigarette he’d dropped, brushing the snow off before sticking it back between his lips and relighting it. He leaned back against the bench and looked out over the frozen pond, feeling different than he had a few minutes ago, kind of related to the dull ache in his arm. This was something else he had now, something else to put under his belt of crazy, self-deprecating acts. It was also something else he held in common with Stan, something that Kyle would never, could never, relate to. He grinned at that, taking a good, hard drag on his cigarette before throwing it back on the ground and stomping it out. He stood and shoved his cold hands in his pockets, feeling more calm and emotionally stable then he had in a very, very long time. He started back towards his home, ready to deal with all of the shit that came with Christmas Day.


End file.
